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What We Leave Behind

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Though he didn’t know why, Kindaichi always sought the quiet of the bathrooms after his team lost a match. The day’s events would be over, and teams and spectators alike would be leaving the building. No one was ever in the bathrooms after a match except for other players, who would usually leave you alone.

And Kindaichi really needed to be alone.

Approximately thirty minutes before that moment, Aobajousai High School had been defeated by Karasuno High School, ending both their volleyball season and their chances to make nationals for the first time in school history.

He had been okay with crying on the court; after all, he hadn’t been the only one. But now he just wanted to cry alone. However, it did not seem like he would get his wish.

“So, you are here.”

Kindaichi barely looked up from where his face was buried in his knees when he heard that achingly familiar voice. “Go away,” he spat, the venom of his words muffled by the fabric of his warm-ups. “I hate you.”

Kageyama shrugged. “I never said you didn’t.” Ignoring Kindaichi’s command, he walked over to the corner of the bathroom Kindaichi was sitting in and sank to the floor across from him. “Iwaizumi-san told you to cover your head when Oikawa-san was serving. Concussion?”

Scowling at his unwanted visitor, Kindaichi muttered, “Fuck off, Kageyama.” But when Kageyama’s eyes merely held an expression of concern and the desire to know, he sighed and said, “Yeah. During training camp after the Inter-highs, Oikawa-san hit me so hard with a serve it knocked me out. I was only cleared to play about a week ago. That’s why Kyoutani —” Kindaichi realized he had forgotten who he was talking to and rolled his eyes. “Forget it.”

Something sparked in Kageyama’s eyes. “You have to take care of yourself better,” he growled. “That’s the third one in as many years.”

“Now whose fault is that?”

Both of them stilled at this. Kindaichi didn’t know why he threw that in Kageyama’s face. Kindaichi had received his first concussion crashing his bicycle during his second year of middle school, but the one after was a different story. It was shortly before the prefectural championships in their third year of junior high. A heated argument turned into a shoving match, which resulted in a tumble down the front steps of Kitagawa Daiichi Middle School. And an ambulance ride, courtesy of Kageyama’s panicked 1-9-9 call. Kindaichi fucking hated ambulances.

“I’m sorry,” Kageyama said, his head bowed until his bangs covered nearly all of his face. Kindaichi didn’t need to see his eyes to know that the apology was sincere.

With a sigh, Kindaichi said, “It’s not your fault. A lot of things were your fault, but that wasn’t it.”

Kageyama muttered something Kindaichi couldn’t hear, but he didn’t ask. He much preferred this newer Kageyama, the one who kept a few things to himself and listened quietly. The one who didn’t rampage at his teammates for making minute mistakes. Well, maybe his ginger shorty, but Kageyama was almost . . . respectful.

He didn’t even try to suppress the pang of jealousy that this Kageyama wasn’t the one he had dated in junior high.

“What did that school do to you, Kageyama?” Kindaichi mused aloud.

Blue eyes shot up to meet his. “What?”

Kindaichi’s lips twitched into a smirk. “You’re almost a normal human being now. I don’t even know how to talk to you anymore.”

Kageyama’s eyes narrowed minutely before he released a pent-up groan. Wondering if he had unknowingly agitated the other boy, Kindaichi frowned. He had only been joking, but Kageyama looked legitimately distressed. Out of a habit he thought long dead, he reached out to touch Kageyama’s loosely hanging hand. “Hey.”

Jerking his hand away, Kageyama cradled it and shot Kindaichi a glare. “Don’t.”

Kindaichi sneered. “Fine, King. Sorry I treated you like a fucking person.”

“I —”

“Save it,” Kindaichi fired as he stood and glared down at Kageyama. “You won. Shouldn’t be off celebrating with your teammates? With your new toy?” The words tasted sharp and bitter in his mouth, but Kindaichi could not stop them coming out. “I bet Shorty-kun will even let you top if you—”

“Shut up!” Kageyama barked as he launched to his feet and roughly pushed Kindaichi against the wall. “It’s never been like that.”

Kindaichi’s nostrils flared. Contempt boiled in his belly, and maybe a touch of something else. “Hasn’t it, Mr. Invincible? Everyone heard what he said to you. Like you were his little pet.” He looked down his nose at Kageyama. “God, you’re pathetic. I think I liked you better when you had some self-respect, instead of being led around by a loud little —”

Kageyama’s fist connected with Kindaichi’s jaw. “You don’t know anything!”

A laugh bubbled from Kindaichi’s chest as he looked at Kageyama. Chest heaving, cheeks red, fists clenched, and — “I know a few things,” he taunted as his eyes settled on Kageyama’s now obvious erection. He rubbed his aching jaw with a mocking smile. “You actually got angry enough to pop a boner. Shorty-kun’s going to be jealous I can still make you get it up.”

There was a feral yell before Kageyama launched himself on top of Kindaichi. Kindaichi’s blood hammered in his veins as he and Kageyama rolled around the bathroom floor, limbs jockeying for advantage. But Kindaichi was taller, stronger, and infinitely more clear-headed and was soon straddling Kageyama’s lap as he pinned Kageyama’s shoulders.

The other boy’s arousal rubbed against his inner thigh, pouring life into something he had thought long-dead. He hadn’t been that attracted to Kageyama since before his ex-setter had turned into the King of the Court and Kindaichi his lowly servant. But this new balance of power between them made his skin feel like it was on fire. With a throaty groan, he leaned forward and roughly fastened his mouth to Kageyama’s.

In a flurry of lips, teeth, and tongues, Kindaichi could almost feel the weight of the unfinished business between them slip away into a different universe, and they were fourteen again — naïve as hell and brutally attracted to one another.

With a throaty chuckle, a hand slid down Kageyama’s chest and settled against his groin. Kindaichi ground his palm against Kageyama’s arousal and swallowed the accompanying hiss of pleasure. Kindaichi felt his own cock springing to life as Kageyama grabbed his ass and roughly pressed their hips closer together.

Leaving Kageyama’s swollen lips, Kindaichi leaned and whispered in Kageyama’s ear, “We were always good at this, though.”

Kageyama shuddered in response. Kindaichi knew how much it turned Kageyama on when he breathed against his ear. “Make some dirty sounds for me, Kageyama. I wanna hear you.”

“Someone could come in,” Kageyama wheezed.

“Don’t care,” Kindaichi murmured as he trailed his lips along Kageyama’s neck, the sweat of a long, grueling match tart on his skin.

“Wow.”

They both looked up at the new voice in the room. Kindaichi reddened until he saw that it was Kunimi. “Could you give us a minute?” he asked as Kageyama turned an incredible shade of pink beneath him.

Kunimi shrugged. “They’re packing up the bus. Oikawa-san is looking for you.”

“And he can keep looking,” Kindaichi said as he looked pointedly at the door. “You mind?”

“Not at all,” Kunimi said as he slipped out.

Kageyama was still burning with embarrassment, but Kindaichi felt like laughing. “It isn’t the first time he’s caught us.”

If possible, Kageyama colored even more. Kindaichi sighed and hefted himself off of Kageyama. He pulled Kageyama to his feet and yanked them both towards one of the toilet stalls. The edge of the bowl hit the back of Kindaichi’s knees, and he sank back onto the seat as Kageyama slid on his lap. Kindaichi’s superior height made the distance between their mouths negligible.

Kindaichi bit Kageyama’s lip and relished the throaty gasp it elicited. He shoved his fingers into Kageyama’s glossy black hair and deepened the kiss. Kageyama ground his hips against Kindaichi, who pulled his hair in response.

“Shit!” Kageyama cried.

Smiling against Kageyama’s mouth, Kindaichi lowered his hands to the waistband of Kageyama’s track bottoms. Kageyama’s eyes shot wide open as he pulled away, mouth agape.

Kindaichi shoved Kageyama backwards against the stall door and jerked his pants down to his ankles, underwear and all. His cock sprang free, and Kindaichi couldn’t help but lick his lips. He sank to his knees from his perch and thrust Kageyama’s length deeply into his mouth. Kageyama let out a strangled yelp as Kindaichi slowly, carefully dragged his bottom teeth as he pulled back.

He could feel Kageyama’s knees shaking as he worked his tongue around the foreskin before grazing his canine over the dripping slit on the head. Everything he had ever read or heard said not to use teeth, but as in all things, Kageyama is an exception. That extra bit of friction, of pain that blended with pleasure until neither were discernible, made Kageyama cry out the most and come the hardest. It gave Kindaichi a giddy satisfaction to know that he was probably the only person on the planet who had that particular piece of information. And certainly the only one who had ever used it.

Maybe he might have aimed to stimulate Kageyama until the pleasure began to hurt from the intensity. Possibly. There was certainly no one he had gone into the day’s match wanting to hurt more than Kageyama; on his knees in a toilet stall with a cock in his mouth wasn’t how he had envisioned accomplishing that goal.

But damn, Kindaichi had missed this. Missed him. Missed them.

Kindaichi wanted more. He and Kageyama had never gone past this point before, He didn’t want to be Seijou and Karasuno at that moment; he just wanted to be Yuutarou and Tobio again. Being in the same room as his ex-boyfriend was a mistake, but every limb of his body ached for him to make it. They could be more than the day’s victory or defeat.

Hoping Kageyama was not as stupid as he pretended to be, Kindaichi slid two fingers into Kageyama’s mouth. The other boy latched on to the fingers and stroked them with his tongue, pulling a growl of approval from Kindaichi just as he took Kageyama’s cock in as far as he could make it go.

Kageyama keened loudly, despite his mouth being busy. The sound made Kindaichi ache with need. Growing impatient, he pulled his fingers from Kageyama’s lips and frowned. Not wet enough. He wasn’t completely sure how much he needed, but that mere gloss of saliva did not seem sufficient at all.

“L-let me come,” Kageyama gasped with a wobbling voice.

Kindaichi didn’t need to ask why. Definitely not as stupid as he looked. He released Kageyama’s arousal with a pop of his lips and slid up to dart his tongue around the rim of Kageyama’s ear, eliciting a strangled cry. Kindaichi took his moistened hand and pumped Kageyama’s length, swallowing a ragged groan as he brought their mouths together.

Pre-come coated his hand, allowing him to move even faster. Kageyama was barely standing on his own at this point, the grip he had on the toilet paper dispenser the only thing saving him from collapsing.

It was startling when Kageyama’s other hand stilled Kindaichi’s motion. Their eyes met, wide and uncertain.

Kageyama bit his lip as his eyelids drifted shut. “Come with me, Kindaichi. Please.” It was barely more than a whisper, a meek plea from someplace neither of them had been before.

Kindaichi struggled to draw a proper breath as he regarded Kageyama. Hair mussed, eyes barely open, heaving chest, mouth slack. Knowing he had the power to bring someone as tightly wound as Kageyama to such a state made Kindaichi’s chest burn with something he didn’t dare put a label on. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Or maybe it was always supposed to be like this.

Both of them reached to pull down Kindaichi’s pants, but Kageyama licked a long, languid stripe up his own palm before closing it around Kindaichi’s cock. Kageyama’s hand was rough and callused from volleyball, and every hardened patch of skin sent lightning through Kindaichi’s blood. There was nothing special about Kageyama’s method, but Kindaichi didn’t care.

Growling, he grabbed Kageyama’s ass and pinned him to the stall wall. The latter’s legs wrapped around his waist as their lips met for a fierce, bruising kiss. Kageyama wrapped his hands around both of their cocks, and Kindaichi began thrusting upwards with whatever strength his legs could muster.  

They drank each other’s cries as the urgency became almost unbearable. Kindaichi didn’t know how much longer he could stand. Almost as if he had read the other’s mind, Kageyama leaned forward and propelled Kindaichi backwards until his knees hit the toilet and buckled.

Now seated in Kindaichi’s lap once again, Kageyama planted his feet and brought his hips forward over and over again with everything he had. The clenched teeth and look of sheer determination stole Kindaichi’s breath. Missing the mouth that had just broken away from his, he bit Kageyama’s shoulder. The other boy roared and tightened his grip on their sliding lengths.

“Fuck,” Kindaichi panted into Kageyama’s ear.

Kageyama whimpered in response and stammered, “I-I’m c-coming.”

Just the mere thought of seeing Kageyama’s orgasm sent Kindaichi over the edge. He spilled onto both their laps, shirts, everything, and Kageyama did, too, a few moments later. Gasping for air, he draped his arms loosely over Kindaichi’s shoulders and bowed his head until his lips rested just above Kindaichi’s brow.

Kindaichi wanted to say so many things. This was incredible. This was hot. This was definitely a mistake. But he merely sighed contentedly as his hand snaked to the side to grab the hanging end of the toilet roll, gently dabbing away the remnants of their bliss. Kageyama kissed his brow; Kindaichi’s hand froze and he forgot how to breathe.

“I’m sorry,” Kageyama whispered. “For everything.”

Tears drizzled down onto Kindaichi’s cheeks, but they were coming from above him. And he knew why. They could never go back. Could never undo what had been done. Kageyama couldn’t throw away his old crown and go to Aobajousai where he belonged. Could never let this happen again.

Kindaichi wanted to say over and over that he could forgive Kageyama, that it didn’t matter, but he swallowed the words. Instead, he brushed their lips together and murmured, “I know.” He sighed. “I know.”

Neither of them spoke as they parted to finish cleaning up. Kindaichi left the bathroom first, not wanting to be caught fucking his senpai’s enemy.

Mizoguchi-san found Kindaichi first and yanked him by the arm to the bus, scolding him about wasting other people’s time, but Kindaichi tuned him out as he stumbled onto the bus. Kunimi raised a brow, at which Kindaichi flushed. He took the seat next to his fellow first year, knowing it was saved for him, and slumped down into the fake leather until he felt like he was ten centimeters tall.

When they were halfway back to the school, Kunimi asked simply, “Wanna talk about it?”

“No,” Kindaichi replied simply. He was more than willing to let everyone believe that this ache in him was due to losing the match, but Kindaichi wasn’t stupid enough to try duping himself into thinking that. Maybe it was that he and Kageyama were just too far apart to be together anymore, or that they were now rivals.

But what made him hate it the most was that both of them were better, happier people when they were apart.  Kageyama didn’t tear down his new teammates; he built them up. Kindaichi was not responsible for every missed spike or flubbed toss; he was given carte blanche to make as many mistakes as he needed to in order to become the player everyone knew he could be, that Oikawa-san told him he was almost every day. Together they were agitated and distant, but apart they were fearless.

Kindaichi hugged his knees and disregarded the stray tears that tracked down his cheeks. From the seat next to them, he could see Iwaizumi-san give him a soft, sad look. Kindaichi wanted to throw up.

Beside him, Kunimi sighed and leaned against him, resting a hand on top of Kindaichi’s balled-up fist, rubbing a thumb over his pounding pulse. Slowly, but surely, Kindaichi’s heartbeat slowed until he felt almost normal again. Just like the last time.

Silently, he thanked any gods who deigned to listen for his best friend as he feigned sleep for the rest of the ride home.